A/N: I'm trying my best to get these initial chapters out of the way quickly, so we can get to the fun part. :D This chapter has a little more musical terminology. I tried to make it as clear as possible, but if you don't understand, don't worry…it really doesn't have much bearing on the Calzona plot, but I got a bit carried away. Lastly, I do realize it's highly unlikely for a traditional orchestra to do this to a piece…remember when I said to suspend your disbelief? Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Every section of the orchestra had a stereotype. The percussion section were kind of the jocks of the symphony, the brass were the loud, crass type, the wind instrumentalists were known to be good kissers, the bass section were the jazzy hippies, the violas were the wannabe violinists, the violin sections were the arrogant divas, and the cellos were the soul and passion of the orchestra.

Callie had never been too concerned with the politics of the ensembles she had been in, but she had to admit that in the one week she had been in the New York Philharmonic, the members did nothing to disprove these often negative stereotypes. She hoped that as the season continued she would be proven wrong, especially by a certain blonde concertmaster.

As Callie practiced in the empty hall an hour before her sectional, she found herself wondering in amazement that she was here, in New York City, principal cello in arguably the best symphony orchestra in the world. For Callie, playing the cello had never been a means to an end. It was not her career, but her passion. It was simply an added bonus that she was getting paid simply for doing the thing she loved most in the world. Growing up with plenty of money to spare and a sizeable trust fund on the way, Callie had never needed to earn money. This gave her ample time to perfect her skills. She truly was a perfectionist, but not in the way other musicians were. She had no real goals; she just wanted to play as beautifully as possible, and if people would pay to hear her play, then so be it. It wasn't until she received a full-ride scholarship to Oberlin Conservatory that she realized her full potential.

Her sister and friends often joked that Callie was married to her cello. Many a relationship began by watching Callie's sensual cello playing. Many a relationship was ruined because of Callie's partners not understanding her prioritizing her cello over them. Sure, Callie loved to be in love and would love to settle down with a nice boy…or girl…but she was not willing to sacrifice one bit of her passion for the cello, and now her career. It was for this reason that Callie often found herself swept up in passionate, torrid love affairs that came to a grinding halt just as quickly as they began. She desperately hoped that one day she would find someone who would never question her priorities.

It was at that point in Callie's thoughts that her mind drifted to the beautiful blonde who had reprimanded her just a few days earlier. She hadn't imagined that the sweet, bubbly, cheerful woman who had welcomed them so warmly the first day could be such a class A bitch mere hours later. Normally Callie wouldn't care at all what others thought of her, confident in her own remarkable abilities, but she found herself trying to prove her merits to this woman. She couldn't quite figure out whether it was out of respect for Arizona's superior position in the orchestra or because every time she closed her eyes, she saw dimples and golden curls.

Realizing she was being watched, Callie stilled her hands and the mournful notes faded into the walls.

Arizona had intended to get to the rehearsal hall early to have some quiet time to figure out how best to conduct this sectional. As she walked through the door, the sight in front of her made her heart skip several beats. Callie was slumped over her cello (Horrible posture, Arizona had thought when her mind had become less foggy), her raven hair covering her face and falling gently over the neck of the instrument. She didn't just play with her lithe hands, but her entire body. As her right hand dipped across the instrument to play a raspy, low note, her entire right side from her shoulder to her hip to her knee moved into the instrument. She was an extension of the instrument in every sense of the word. It was if the bow had been sown to her right palm, and her front glued to the body of the cello. She was simultaneously playing the cello, producing soaring notes, while intimating a sensual solo act. Arizona felt a blush rise up her neck, feeling like she was a voyeur, intruding on a very intimate moment in Callie's life.

When Arizona realized Callie had stopped playing, she started to walk with purpose, hoping that the brunette would think she had just walked in the door.

"Calliope," she breathed, "you're here early."

Callie grumbled at the name. "I usually am. How did you know my full name?"

"Seating chart," she grinned, holding up the offending item. "Calliope," she then mused. "Beautifully voiced. How appropriate."

"Not really, my talent is in my fingers, not my voice."

Momentarily taken aback by the thought of Callie's talented fingers, Arizona took a ragged breath, before continuing. "I would say you voice your cello beautifully, wouldn't you?"

Callie raised an eyebrow, wondering whether the blonde was actually bipolar. "I guess so, yeah."

"Calliope it is, then."

Callie got the feeling she shouldn't argue.

The two fell into an awkward silence, both pretending to be busy with odd jobs. Callie absentmindedly marked her music, retracing the same markings she had already written in prior rehearsals. Arizona studied the Prokofiev score, occasionally lifting her hands in a conducting pattern. Neither was actually paying any attention to their tasks, and would instead steal glances when they thought the other was looking. A few times Callie opened her mouth to say something, but could never figure out the right words. She wanted to make things right, but she knew a further apology would not be well-received. She momentarily thought about starting small talk, but didn't want to disturb the blonde who looked so cute with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Callie shook her head as if trying to rid her mind of inappropriate thoughts and glanced at her watch. Still half an hour until rehearsal. Were they really the only two who wanted to get there early?

"Oh thank God," Callie muttered when the door to the room was kicked open, Mark Sloan and his ungainly double bass appearing in the entranceway. He whistled as he sauntered forward, carrying his bass as if it weren't a huge, heavy block of wood. A fedora perched atop his salt and pepper mane. Yep, jazzy hippie, Callie mused to herself, a small smirk on her face. She glanced up to see Arizona looking at her quizzically, presumably wondering what was amusing the Latina.

The three engaged in pleasant small talk while the others filed in, Mark acting as a buffer for women's palpable tension.

Arizona's first sectional ran smoothly and she felt that it was quite productive. Callie found herself in awe of the blonde's leadership and directorial skills. Similarly, Arizona admired Callie's clear dedication and poise. She was an obviously good choice for principal cello.

Arizona ended the sectional with a rhythmically difficult passage for the basses that was taking longer than anticipated to get correct. She briefly gave notes and asked the basses to be more aware of their cues, before asking them to repeat the system. Arizona was acutely aware of Callie's gaze, her eyes boring holes through Arizona's carefully constructed façade. During a fancy rhythm change, Arizona chanced a look in Callie's direction. Big mistake. Her heart sped and their eyes locked, while Arizona's arms fell clumsily out of tempo. A few of the basses tried to keep up, before they lost their groove all together.

"I'm really sorry, guys," Arizona said, clearly flustered. "You know, why don't we just call it a day? You've all been working really hard, and I'm sure you won't have any trouble with that passage when we add in the percussion." As she said this, she was already shuffling her sheets of music into a pile, trying to remove herself from the situation as fast as possible.

As she walked off the podium to grab her purse, she heard someone calling her name.

"Hey, Robbins!" She turned to see Mark smiling at her. "We were all thinking of grabbing a bite to eat at Joe's, wanna come?"

Arizona smiled at Mark and spared a glimpse at Callie. Callie cocked her head expectantly.

"Sorry, guys. I have no time for socializing, I have to work on my solo."

Diva, Callie thought.

o0o0o

Arizona and Callie didn't see each other until rehearsal on Monday morning. Both spent the weekend trying desperately to keep the other woman out of their thoughts. Both tried in vain.

Rehearsal seemed longer than usual to both of them. Of course, the 1st violin chair and 1st cello chair were on opposite sides from each other, the conductor's podium in between. Whenever Gallo reached forward, Callie got a glimpse of Arizona's golden waves and Arizona noticed Callie swaying into her instrument.

Their seemingly interminable rehearsal ended when the New York Philharmonic producers waltzed in, a red-haired man Arizona didn't recognize on their heels.

Maestro Gallo's face broke into a wide, probably insincere, smile. "Ah, here are our lovely producers with some exciting news for all of you!"

Arizona's eyes lit up and her back got impossibly straighter as she eagerly awaited the news.

The two producers stepped forward, leaving the red-haired man a few steps behind, and introduced themselves.

"For those of you new to the ensemble, I'm Richard Webber, and this is Miranda Bailey. We are both thrilled for this season and are hoping it will be successful."

"As you are all probably aware," Miranda cut in. "The economy, for lack of a better word, sucks right now. It is luxuries like attending concerts that people are cutting out of their lives. I know we don't consider this a luxury, but it is an unfortunate reality. We have lost many of our donors and ticket sales have been down."

"I know this is not what you want to hear so early in the season when the room is still filled with the buzz of excitement of new music and new family members. But, don't fear, we have a plan to make this the best season yet and to make it so that people don't have a choice but to come see what's in store!" Richard finished with a flourish. He and Miranda had a lot invested in this.

"That's where Owen Hunt comes in," Miranda said, gesturing for the man behind them to step forward. "Hunt is well known for his innovative arrangements of classic pieces less adventurous arrangers wouldn't even think to touch. We heard about his creative new take on Tchaikovsky's 'Violin Concerto in D' and knew we have to have him. We are incredibly lucky that he said yes."

Wondering where this was going, members of the orchestra began murmuring to themselves, most of them excited, some of them grumbling about learning the wrong version for no reason.

"Mr. Hunt, will you do the honors?" Richard asked.

"I'd love to," Owen replied. "First of all, I'd like to take a moment to say that I am honored to be working with you, and I think that together, we will make something truly innovative and magical.

"The typical third movement is the rousing orchestral backdrop to a riveting violin solo." Arizona grinned at the mention of the solo, her solo. "But this is, as I said, typical. It's one of the most famous violin concertos in the world. While it is admittedly impressive when done right, and I have no doubt that Ms. Robbins would do it absolute justice, the audience will know what to suspect, and in this economic climate some may choose to simply forgo the experience all together, no matter how accurately the song is performed."

Arizona's breath caught in her throat. This couldn't be happening to her. They couldn't be taking away her solo. She had worked far too hard for this all just to be swept out from under her. She tried to keep her breathing regular and attempted to display no emotions in front of her colleagues, in front of Callie.

"Don't worry, Ms. Robbins," Richard said. Obviously she wasn't as nonchalant as she'd hoped. "The solo is not being taken away from you; we are just adding another dynamic. This will be difficult for you two, but we are turning the solo into a duet. As you all know, the solo is very paradoxical, almost schizophrenic, switching from lightening fast melismas to melancholy, legato passages. We want to use that paradox to our advantage and portray it as a passionate dance between two opposing instruments.

"Therefore," Richard continued, pausing and breathing deeply, "Ms. Callie Torres will be joining Ms. Robbins in the third movement. You will both be working closely with Mr. Hunt and Maestro Gallo to figure out the logistics. I realize this means extra work for both of you, but I trust you are both capable. I will also need to speak to both of you about the extra press we will be doing."

With that, Richard, Miranda, and Owen all swiftly walked back out the single metal door, leaving the orchestra murmuring at the exciting and slightly terrifying new change.

Arizona lowered her head and breathed in deeply, willing her body to calm down and her mind to stop racing. When she lifted her head again she was met with Callie's miraculous, captivating smile.

Shit.

A/N 2: More sexual tension will be coming up when the ladies have their first rehearsal. Also, for your reference, this is the (slightly abridged) incredible solo: http:/www. youtube .com/watch?v=FcVusHRak5I . Take out the spaces before and after youtube. The majority is Arizona's, while the slower, lower parts will be Callie's, adapted for a cello.